The block shaped primary school loomed before Vladimir like a behemoth glaring down at him with a dozen window shaped eyes. Before him it’s maw opened and warm air rushed out and caressed his face like the breath of a beast. The six year old took a stumbling step back. He opened his mouth to shout out for his mother.
     “Vova!” A voice called from beside him.
     He looked to see his mirror image staring back at him with big brown eyes.
     Vladimir shook his head in fear.  “No, Lyosha!  I’m sc-,”
    Aleksei thrust his hand out and Vlad took hold of it. “Don’t worry,” Aleksei’s mouth opened into one of his toothy grins. “Let’s go at the same time.”
    He could feel how clammy his smiling brother’s hand was. 'Is he scared too?' he wondered, unable to imagine his brother frightened of anything but Mashka’s grizzled cat. Vlad nodded and hesitantly turned his face forward. He squeezed Aleksei’s hand and the many eyed giant before him didn’t seem so scary anymore and the big toothy mouth was only a non-threatening glass door through which drifted the scents of paper and chalk. Like a couple of toy soldiers, the twins marched up to the door and together they pushed it open, entering into their first day of school, hands together and faces smiling.
~~~~~~~~~~
     At last Vladimir somehow commanded his stunned muscles to move. His hand gripped his brother’s weakening grasp. He was not thinking, but reacting to what had once always been. His brother’s pulse quickened and his deathly weakness fell away as he squeezed back.
     His feelings were no longer under his control as a wave of relief rushed over Vladimir. The hint of a smile crept over his face as he looked back at his brother’s weary grin.  
     Aleksei opened his mouth to speak but another voice interrupted his.
     “Sorry lads.”
     Both of them turned to see a riot helmet and Kevlar clad SICA agent, his automatic rifle directed at them. Vlad’s normal demeanour returned like bolt of lightning. He cursed himself for dropping his guard, knowing he just made his final mistake.
      The agent’s finger pressed on the trigger.
~~~~~~~~~~
     In the distant corner of the warehouse, the three remaining SICA agents let out terrified screams, cut short by the gruesome sounds of their bodies being mangled in ways the listeners could only imagine from their poor vantage point. A black stain spread across the floor and Dániel emerged amidst his companions, inky essence running off his body.
     He looked at Bruno and Evan.  “Where are the others?”
     “Mashka, Kerry and Anya are securing the boys and the van.”
     The Czech nodded and hurried towards the office where a cautious Ravi emerged.
     “SICA will have a fleet of vehicles to give chase.” Bruno added.
      Evan nodded and walked towards the door.
     “Where are you going?”
     “To stop their pursuit before it starts.”
     “How?”
     As a thunderous roar rattled the shelves Evan replied, “I have cards in reserve.”  
     He launched into the air, the corrugated steel roof blossoming as a twisted flower letting a beam of light in just large enough for the man to shoot through and into the sky. As soon as he was through the roof, Evan spun, directing himself towards where he could see the SICA motor pool. Flipping head over heels, he ended his brief flight and landed at the end of the near perfectly aligned row of dark blue vehicles.
     How convenient of them, he thought seeing their orderly parking. He braced and raised a hand.
     The few agents guarding the fleet were caught unprepared for someone dropping from the sky.
     Evan gave them no heed, taking the brief moment he would be there to focus solely on focusing his power to his hand. He released the kinetic force, initially in a wide cone but narrowed it to a narrow blast. A hole blasted through the side of the first vehicle’s engine block and progressed through the entire row in a ripple, followed by a second ripple as the automobile’s front halves burst asunder from the kinetic shock, scattering the SICA agents as they ducked for cover from the shrapnel.
     The recoil of producing the blast hit Evan harder than he could have anticipated, flinging him back with a cry, flipping round and round, past the buildings, and barely missing the dock railing as he hurtled to the sea. He regained control just before he would have made a lethal impact with the water and took off into the sky towards his rendezvous with the Sharovs.
~~~~~~~~~~~
     Anya screwed on the silencer to her handgun as she slinked to the next cover spot. Pressing herself against the wall she waved for Mashka to follow. They had split ways with Dr. Kerry, who was more than capable of keeping himself safe and he said that he needed to rescue some sensitive materials from falling to SICA.
     Mashka nodded as Anya signed out her next moves, which she could only guess meant that the latter was going to hurry to the corner, shoot three targets, and then signal for her to follow, struggling to remember Evan’s lessons.
    She still could not believe she was in this situation, nor could she believe how comfortable the gun grip felt in her hand. 'It’s not as though I’m completely new to this.' She reasoned. 'Besides, any discomfort is worth protecting Aleksei.'
     She heard the silenced shots from Anya’s weapon followed by the sickening thuds of three bodies to the ground. Anya gave the signal to follow.
     With gun poised, ready to swing into action at any moment, she followed Anya around the corner. They stepped over one of the bodies just as he released a startling death rattle. Mashka grit her teeth, squelching her revulsion, assuring herself she would have all the time she needed to break down later. She followed close behind Anya into the dark warehouse. Immediately she could tell there were five people besides herself and Anya by the scent of five distinct, human male pheromones.
     Copying Anya exactly, she stopped at each row between the shelves and pointed her gun down it, ready to come face to face against an enemy.
     And then she distinctly heard a man speak, a hint of sorrow in his voice.
     “Sorry lads.”
    She turned, her eyes transforming fully to their large feline pupils, making the warehouse seem as bright as a summer day. She took in it all in but a moment. Through the shelves she could see her brothers on the floor, and twenty paces away from them and a few dozen metres right in front of her was an armed member of SICA, weapon poised to fire.
     She let out a beastly shriek that rattled her throat. The man turned his head just in time to find himself watch the bullets pour from the barrel. Mashka ran forward as she repeatedly pulled the trigger until by the time she stood over his body the clip was empty. She panted as blood pounded through her veins. Her eyes were locked on his face, which was now fully exposed since she had shot his helmet off.
     'He looks so… normal…' she thought as she stared at him.  'what-, what did I just do?'
     “Mashka?!”
    Her brother’s laboured cry snapped her out of her shock. She turned and saw her brother stuck under a shelf. She stomped over and grabbed the heavy metal shelf with one hand flipped it over as though it was nothing more than a mattress.  
     “Are you alright Aleksei? Is anything broken? Are you hurt?” By the end of her rush of words she had switched from English to Russian and back to something in between.
     He answered her statements in order given, “Niet; I don’t think so; and da.” He rubbed his hands through his frazzled chestnut hair and attempted to sit up, the trickles of blood on his face running a new direction.
     “I feel like a bus hit me,” he moaned, “but I fared better than that guy you did in over there.” As soon as the words slipped from his mouth Aleksei regretted them, he turned his bleary gaze to Mashka’s red-specked face.
     She shuddered, her eyes shimmering with tears. “Let’s get out of here!” She reached down to grab both of the twins’ shoulders and pulled them up with ease.
     Once Aleksei was up he nearly fell over again. “Oj!  I think I sprained my ankle.”
     Mashka rested his left arm over her shoulder then gave Vlad a “help-me-now” glare.
    Vlad complied more quickly than he intended. His sister’s familiar authoritative gaze with her disturbing new eyes proved a persuasive combination. The three of them half jogged to the door to find The Association’s green van idling with Anya at the wheel.
     “Wasn’t this a different colour?” Aleksei asked.
     Vlad rolled his eyes. “Ever heard of peel-off paint?  Get in!”
    With a quick boost Aleksei was in a seat followed by Mashka and Vlad, once again the twins found themselves side by side for sake of celerity.
     “You in?” Anya asked, not waiting for an answer as she hit the gas, pressing the three Sharovs into the back of their seats.
     “Where’s Evan?” Mashka demanded.
     Anya ignored her as she made a tight turn around a storage crate and then slammed on the brakes throwing her passengers forward. “Get in!” she shouted.
     The front door opened and Evan climbed in, he had not even closed the door when Anya was once again hitting the gas.
     “Are we being followed?” Mashka asked.
      “Not if I can help it!” Anya declared.
     The passengers fastened their seatbelts, knowing they might not have another chance.
~~~~~~~~~~
     The Czech led the way, torch and gun in hand, as Bruno pushed Ravi’s chair through the narrow, dark space.
     “I never thought there would be any tunnels around here.” Ravi muttered.
   “They were built by a smuggling operation a decades ago.” Bruno explained, “It was because of them that we chose this spot as a temporary base.”
    Ravi grimaced. “About that… what if your friend didn’t know where to melt through the floor?”
     “That’s obvious, we would have kept falling until we reached the planet’s core.” Bruno declared. He grinned when he heard Ravi squirm in his wheelchair.
     “Honest? What an inconvenient power!”
     “No, I joke, he can travel through matter like a fish in a pond, there’s nothing to worry about.”
     George attempted a chuckle.
     The Czech stopped and felt a wall. “Come.” he ordered.
    Once they all got close, The Czech pushed them both through the wall and they found themselves looking into the afternoon sun which happened to find a hole in the clouds. The Czech emerged behind his two charges.
     “It would be useful to have the good doctor around.” Bruno muttered looking down the dock that ran along the brick retaining wall they had phased out of.
     The Czech shrugged. “He’s been keeping radio contact, he was split up from the girls and has already evaded capture. We can make do without him, right Ravi?”
     “How can I help?” he asked, “I can’t even stand.”
     “True, but you sense bodies right? You control muscles so you must know when there are people present.”
     “No, I just know whether there are human bodies nearby, and there are, you two.”
     The Czech sighed in irritation. “And here the science department though you might be useful. Never mind let’s just get to the car.”
     They scurried down the dock, keeping an eye out for any SICA agents. In the distance they could hear screeching tires and gunshots but nearby it was silent. They hurried between the warehouses and around a few corners until they spotted the dark blue, sleek sedan.
     George was about to sigh in relief when he heard a stray footfall that made his heart jump into his throat. The next thing he knew he was out of his chair, lifted by one massive arm and set between the open doors of a shipping crate where he had cover on three sides.
“Stay put!” Bruno ordered as gunfire filled the air.
     Bruno then snatched up a large metal box and flung it towards the SICA agents then dived after it, using it as cover.  “I need my gun back!” he yelled.
     From behind the shipping crate to his left, The Czech kicked over the firearm.
     “Danke,” he muttered.
     The shots from SICA’s side calmed down, giving The Czech a window to peek where his enemy was. Then he ducked and made a black circle appear through the storage crate, through which he fired three shots, each hitting an agent but only one bullet made itself past their Kevlar armour with lethal result.
     He peeked out again. “Tsk, this is taking too long.” After getting Bruno’s attention he waved three fingers. The burly German nodded in understanding. The Czech phased into the wall beside him, while Bruno continued to fire rounds.
     Meanwhile something in George’s gut stirred.  Something akin to intuition told him that someone was circling around the building. Was this what the Czech had been talking about? He wanted to use his power and stand up, but he did not know if he would place Bruno or The Czech under his control by mistake and get them killed.
     His fears were confirmed when he felt vibrations through the metal crate, as if someone had leaned against the opposite side of the shipping container. They were surrounded.
     I’ve got to do something!  He reached up to the door latch and pulled himself shakily up using his upper body strength. He tried not to lean, for if he did the door would fling him outwards and make him perfect target.  He pulled himself all the way up, still wondering what he was going to do.
     Just as found himself hanging helpless from the door a pair of footsteps stopped on the other side. Ravi held his breath. It would only take a second for the SICA agent to look around the door, find him, and kill him. He saw a black gloved hand grab hold of the door and pull it outwards. Without thinking Ravi let go of the door and jerked his arm, manipulating the agent’s body like a puppet. The metal door swung and made a hollow gong sound against the man’s head.
With his support torn from his grasp, Ravi fell spread-eagle before three agents, one of them sitting hard on his rear and moving his helmet back in place. Pure adrenaline dictated Ravi’s next actions. Before a whole second passed he gained full control of the fallen SICA’s body and they both rose as mirror images. Just before the two other agents pulled their triggers, Ravi stepped backwards forcing his controlled SICA to move as well.  Two bullets embedded themselves in the agent’s unprotected back.
     In the next moments Ravi discovered how fast he could switch bodies and found himself already in control of the next agent who he forced to twist and shoot his ally in the neck. Then as he brought his own hand, holding an imaginary gun towards his neck so did the agent. Ravi began to squeeze his index finger in until the agent let out a high pitch scream of terror.
    Guilt immediately broke through his clouded, terror-gript mind when he realised the agent behind the all-concealing helmet was a woman. He dropped his hand and his legs buckled beneath him. Shots rang in his ears and he expected himself to have blood spraying from some hole in his chest but instead he saw the woman before him fall crumple to the ground and blood pool beneath her. Not seeing a shooter he looked behind him.
     “I always tell people that chivalry isn’t dead.” The Czech said with a grin. He reached down and cast Ravi over his shoulders in a fireman's carry. “Oof, you’re heavier than you look, tiny Indian."
     Ravi grimaced in mixture of revulsion at the coldness of his rescuer and embarrassment at being so simply manhandled by the large Czech. He could not even bring himself to correct him that he was Lebanese. As his vision bounced with his carrier’s strides he looked back at the three bodies he left in his wake. He swallowed hard, fighting back nausea and shock, tried to focus on the simple fact that he was alive, and not that his life cost three others, and their respective families dearly.
     Dániel cast Ravi from his shoulders into the back seat of a speed boat where Bruno was waiting behind the wheel.
     As he collapsed into the backseat he asked, “What about the sedan?”
   “A grenade took care of that.” Bruno grumbled as he fired up the gas and the boat accelerated into the bay. “So I went to plan B and hot-wired a boat. At least now they can’t chase us.”
     Salt spray and wind blasted against Ravi’s dark skin as he stared back at the shore. He wondered how his life had ever come to this. Hours ago he was a wealthy recluse with a boring day job and now he was dodging bullets and being rescued by shady individuals.
~~~~~~~~~~
     Anya’s foot eased off the gas. “I think I lost them.” she smirked.
     “Good show!” Evan announced prompting a high-five.
     After a brief glower at Anya, Mashka sighed in relief. She looked over at her brothers to share her elation but found her words chased away.
     Both boys were pointedly staring in any direction but one another, arms crossed, eyes cold.
     “I would think this reunion would be a bit more cheerful,” she scolded, “Come on you two, the family is back together!”
     Aleksei huffed, blowing a straw hair from his forehead. “It might have been, had Vova here not insisted on fratricide.”
     “And you are still a tattle, mama-boy.” Vlad sneered.
     “Well, at least I’m consistent. When did you pick up being a psycho?”
     “I don’t have to answer you!”
     “Eh?! You think you don’t owe me an explanation?!”
     The boys were now glaring at each other sideways, which their sister saw as a minor improvement.
     “Hey!” she snapped, “Both of you, this is not the time! Just calm down and we can talk about this later alri-- yagh!”
     The siblings were all flung to one side of the van letting out gasps of surprise. Once the horizontal g-force abated, Vlad pushed the siblings off of him and was about to demand an explanation for Anya’s crazed driving when saw a bullet hole appear in the door frame next to him.  He ducked, Mashka and Aleksei following suit, then peeked back to see a green SUV hot on their trail.
     Evan opened the skylight.
     “What are you doing?!” Anya and Mashka cried in unison, to their mutual annoyance.
     “Relax, I have a plan!” he declared before pulling himself through.
     Mashka almost screamed in horror when she looked back and saw him tumble off the roof. But just before he hit the road he took flight, disappearing from view.
     Evan shot high above the buildings into the early twilight sky and looked down at the SICA SUV. He sighed, readying himself for what he was about to do. Like a falcon he dived and as he neared the vehicle he banked and landed feet-first on the roof. He snatched a roof rack with his left hand and raised his other towards the engine bonnet.
     Even through the rushing wind he could hear the commotion beneath him as the SICA agents shouted in French and English wondering what had landed on the roof. One brave soul climbed out the passenger window with gun ready, but Evan was prepared, releasing a kinetic blast from his hand he blew the agent’s weapon away and made him fall back out of view as the poor fellow hung half-way out the window over the street.
     Once more aiming his hand at the engine, Evan angled his fingers inwards and with sensation like rushing water from his palm past his fingers the focused kinetic stream let loose, in an instant blowing a circular whole through the centre of the engine.
     The vehicle decelerated so rapidly Evan was flung forward, releasing the rail just in time not to have his arm ripped off. As he hurtled towards impending road rash he made a desperate attempt to regain flight. Kinetic energies sputter around him just stopping his descent by moments until he somehow regained his equilibrium and enveloped himself in a cylinder of forces and torpedoed upwards.
     After a brief moment in the sky to collect himself Evan plunged back down into the aura of the golden streetlights and landed on the roof of Anya’s van.  He swung himself through the sky light and into his seat.
     He looked over surprised to see his former comrade’s face in a dark scour.
     “What?” he asked, expecting some sort of awe rather then spite.
     “Do you have any idea how many times that would have been so useful? We could have completely averted the Minsk incident.”
     “Look, I did not know I could do it then, honest!” Evan pleaded with her then turned his gaze back to Mashka for support.
     The woman leaned forward and smacked the side of his head. “Don’t ever do that again! Are you insane?!”
     Evan cowed.  “Sorry…”
     Anya however came to his defense. “Listen kitty, because of him we no longer have them on our back, show a little gratitude.”
     Mashka would have responded had she not been stunned by the nickname. Kitty?! What does she mean by that?! And why am I being schooled on etiquette by the psycho who tried to kill me? She shook her head, despite all their history, now was not the time to argue.
     By the time it was almost midnight they had passed from Scotland into England, switched vehicles and searched for trackers at an abandoned gas station and kept on south through the night to the next Association hideout. All the while moving further from the place the Sharovs had come to know as home.

     “You killed him like some stray dog!” Mashka half screamed half roared, flashing her long fangs.
     Anya's hand flashed to her holster but an icy glance from Daniel made her freeze.
     The Administrator seemed unfazed. “You should know something about your dear Dr. Salaam. Firstly, he was being used by SICA, which means he was leading you and your brother to your murders. In his favour, I will say that he might not have known the details, The Western powers can be very seductive, he may have been sincere in wanting to help you. But he was quite simply a threat to you, intentions unconsidered. You are too precious, Mariya, I will kill hundreds more to protect you.” The Administrator beheld her tenderly, despite his dark words.
     The memory of the bloody rivulets flowing from Salaam’s head on a rainy roof in Moscow had been burned in her mind, never to heal. That moment had become her symbol of utter depravity and the starkest expression of the high cost of heroics. Now to be told that her hero was another ‘shade of gray’ left her gut twisted in anger that she desperately tried to control lest her beast bring its desires to fruition on all those around her.
     Ravi was the one to break the awkward silence. “Not to make light of your friend’s unfortunate demise, but what is the next course of action? With SICA combing all of Scotland for us, we need to do something.”
     Anya answered before the Administrator could. “Exactly what we always do, leave false trails and return home.”
     The older man smiled fondly at her. “Precisely my dear. Bear with this everyone, especially you two.” He pointed at Mashka and Evan. “I assume we will be parting ways somewhere along the line, but I really could use your help for as long as possible. At least until Mr. Donnelly and you are out of harm’s way.”
     “So, you are just going to let us go this time?” Evan asked.
     The Administrator shrugged. “Colleagues are most helpful when they are willing. And I can make sure any task would be to your benefit.”
     Mashka looked at Evan and nodded towards the door.
     He got the hint and told those present. “We need to deliberate, one moment.” They excused themselves and closed the door behind them.
     Evan began, having already rehearsed his words. “Look, Mashka, I know what you are going to say--,”
     “You should,” she snapped. “Are we going to go along with them, honest?”
     “At this instant they can keep us safe, besides, The Apparition seemed rather adamant on our presence here.”
     Mashka found herself forced to agree. “And she’s been talking with The Administrator too. Makes one wonder what their arrangement is.”
     Evan grunted in agreement. “Mashka, do you trust me?”
     She was taken aback by the question for a moment. “Why are you asking me that?”
     “I need to know, do you trust me?”
     Her catlike eyes focused intently on his grey ones, as if reading his thoughts through them. “With my life,” she answered, never losing eye contact.
     “Then there’s nothing to worry about.” He said sternly, then cracking a smile. “Though, I can’t say I have the best track record.”
     After a light punch to her friend’s chest, Mashka smirked. “The Administrator lied about wanting to work with us,” Evan’s smile wavered. “-But he spoke the truth when he said he wanted to keep us safe. I think The Apparition is ‘wearing the pants’ when it comes to his dealings with us.”
     Evan raised his eyebrows. “I wouldn’t think she’d be powerful enough to do that.”
     Mashka shook her head and lead the way back into the office. “We’re in!” she declared as she opened the door.
     The Administrator nodded.  “Excelle--”
     A high pitched metallic shriek cut him off and the transmission ended though the noise remained, ringing in everyone’s ears.
     “The transmission has been jammed!” Bruno exclaimed.
     “That sounded like a shock grenade.” The Czech noted casually as he rose and passed through the wall.
     “I guess this means we’ve been found.” Dr. Kerry sighed wearily.  “Time to pack up.”
     “Where’s Aleksei?” Evan asked.
     “He went to talk to his brother in the next building over…” Anya began, then trailed off.
Mashka rushed towards the door.
     “Hey!” Anya called getting her attention. She tossed a holstered revolver which Mashka snatched perfectly. “You might need that.”
     “Tch,” Mashka growled, clipping the hoster to her belt and drawing the weapon as Evan had taught her.
~~~~~~~~~~
    Vlad spun around, looking for any sign of movement, but to no avail since the steam hid everything from view. He considered simply blasting away all the obstructions, but that was bound to get him in loads of trouble, as it was, this duel was making plenty of noise.
     Out of the corner of his eye he noticed a stray swirl of mist that seemed out of place.  He reacted by instinct, kicking behind him.
     Aleksei backed away just in time to avoid the brunt of the attack, only earning himself a minor bruise. He could not stop as Vlad came in for the attack. With blinding speed Aleksei found himself on the receiving end of a left hook. His training with both Nida and Evan came back to him and he stopped his brother’s fist with his palm, grabbed Vlad’s upper arm, and kicked out his legs from under him.
     However, Vlad caught himself with a hand and a foot and lashed out with his free leg.  His strike missed, instead it knocked aside the swirling mist that was rolling off of Aleksei's body, leaving after images of his form wherever he went, disconcerting him.
     Using the mist to thoroughly obscure his brother’s vision, Aleksei planned on backing away, but he forgot to pay attention to where his feet were and he backed into one of the shelves causing him to loose balance.
     Vlad grinned when he heard his brother trip. If he moved quickly, he would make a direct hit. He extended his right hand.
     Aleksei felt the temperature lower, but he had the wind knocked out of him. In his panic, he bid the vapour to ram into him as he turned on his side. He was thrown like a rag doll and sent tumbling through the rows of bottom shelves. He felt a portion of his sensory field destroyed as his sheet of water vapour had all heat sapped from it, leaving only useless frost and snow behind. Vlad, without knowing it, had half blinded him.
     Still immobile from slamming himself with his own mist, Aleksei had no other choice than to push himself up just enough to bring vapour beneath him. Once he had accomplished that, he again, painfully, struck himself with the mist, this time launching himself high into the air so he could roll off of the torrent and land on a top shelf, hidden from view. Knowing that his rough landing would make a racket, Aleksei bid the stream that had brought him upwards to knock down a the large stacks of boxes from their perch making a deafening crash on the concrete floor and covering up any noise from Aleksei’s hastily planned movements.
     Panting heavily and nursing his injured side, Aleksei beckoned tendrils of mist to reattach himself to the floor five shelves down. When he did he sensed that several persons had entered the building and he recognised none of their shapes. 'SICA! Vlad!'
~~~~~~~~~~
     “They’re in the building.” The Czech declared as he returned through the wall then glared at Bruno. “How did they get past your security?”
     “Must have been a virus. Though it would take impressive skill to get past my custom firewall and--”
     The Czech raised his hand for silence. “Later, right now, the point is that we‘ve been sniffed out. Bruno, you are staying near me.”
     Immediately the computer tech knew he was both a suspect and/or a primary target of the enemy.
     “And doctor?”
     Kerry turned to The Czech.  “Yes, Dániel?”
     “How many are out there?”
     Kerry’s pupils wove into interlaced triquetras then returned to normal in less than a second.  “Twenty-three normal humans… but there are two, not Jinn, but I would be careful, their souls are unusually potent.”
     “Good to know.”
      Mashka looked strangely at Kerry.  “You are Jinn too?”
     “After a sort,” he smiled brilliantly, causing his initial unnerving impression to fade. “We’ll have to talk about that later. In the meantime, four of them just entered this building, and your brothers are being surrounded as we speak. Both of them are exhausted after using all that power they were fighting each other with.”
     “What?  They were fighting?!” Mashka cried in a hushed tone. “Why didn’t you tell me?” He waved her off. “Relax, neither of them are hurt badly. The important thing is that there are now six people at the other side of this building.”
     Mashka nodded and turned her attention to the opposite side of the warehouse. Her keen sense of smell picked up on the intruders’ presence as did her sharp hearing as she removed her sensory limitation.
     “Six just entered this building,” Mashka began, “and they split into two groups, each taking a side.”
     The Czech nodded and looked pointedly at Kerry. The doctor understood the gaze and cockily smirked.
     “Anya, how much do you want to bet I can shoot them all from here?”
     “Just do it Kerry, stop fooling around,” she snapped.
     “As you wish,”
Mashka felt a tingling in the air as Kerry tilted his head back, eyes rolling back in their sockets. She only got a brief glimpse again of his electric blue eyes before he spun around and stared through the forest of shelves and boxes, his twin triquetras twirling.
     “Aha!” he exclaimed as he rested the revolver atop the nearest box, aimed through a gap and fired.
     Mashka jumped from the gun fire, her ears ringing but still able to pick up the sound of a limp body falling to the ground. Barely a second later Kerry had already fired off his five other shots through the shelves, five more bodies echoed  as they thudded to the cement.
     He turned back to the two women as his pupils shrank back to their normal parameters and the irises faded to a much less electric blue. He blew at the barrel tip and holstered his weapon in his coat. “It’s such a shame you ladies could not see the light show. It’s a glorious and colour filled sight when a soul is liberated from its prison--,”
     “Quiet Kerry.” Anya ordered in annoyance.
     “Oh yes true, we need to get to the dear little boys now don’t we?” He stepped to the side gallantly, “Ladies with fully loaded guns first, of course!”
~~~~~~~~~~
     Dropping into the mist below Aleksei winced as his feet made noise against the floor. As quietly as possible, he hastened towards his brother who was standing still in the mist. He could feel several bodies intruding into the warehouse, eight persons fanning out at the entrance and peering into the mist. He felt them cast several small objects blindly outwards, one of them landed on a shelf a mere metre from Vlad’s face.
     Running with a maelstrom of fog pressing behind to grant him speed, Aleksei leapt and grappled his brother to the ground as six ear piercing blasts and brilliant lights blinded and deafened the two young men. The river of mist that had followed Aleksei continued to push them to the far wall away from the intruders.
     Aleksei’s body shook and shuddered in numb pain. He felt as if he had been on the receiving end of a jackhammer. He felt blood trickle across his skin, but his nerves were too confused to tell him where or how many wounds from which it flowed. He brought trembling hands to his ringing ears and tried to curl into a foetal position but his legs were were unresponsive. All he could see was the pale red colour one sees when facing a bright light with one’s eyes closed. As his vision cleared he could see first the cement floor then a hand.
     Is that my hand? When the fingers twitched at his bidding he assumed it must be his.  His vision continued to return and before him another hand beyond his came into sight. Slowly, Vladimir’s face came into view, his features grimacing at the pain that overwhelmed his body, but most importantly, he seemed unharmed.
~~~~~~~~~~
     For Vladimir the experience had not been quite as terrible. His brother had knocked him out of the direct path of the blast wave and shrapnel. His head spun and he felt a bump beginning to swell on the side of his skull, but otherwise he was fine, though in no way ready to move.
     Someone grasped his hand so he tried to focus his blurred vision. His first reaction was to snatch his hand away, if only he could move that much, but something else kept him still, there was a sense of desperate urgency in the weakening grip on his fingers. Out of the darkness Aleksei came into view, his brown eyes wide in fear and pleading. Vlad’s groggy mind could not understand the expression until he finally realised the red lines of blood framing his brother’s eyes, nose, and mouth. A moment later he saw the sturdy, metal shelving that had pinned his twin to the floor from temple to waist.
     Aleksei’s grasp weakened further and Vlad’s heart raced and he felt pinned himself by his brother’s frightened gaze.

   The van pulled next to a large storage facility at the edge of Edinburg. Anya turned around to the slightly green faced passengers. “Everybody, welcome to home sweet temporary headquarters!” She hopped out and stretched and continued, “Or HSTHQ for short!”
     The others soon followed, making an assortment of noises as they escaped their vessel of torture. The Czech and Vlad immediately made their way towards the large building, eager to be rid of the nauseating van.
     Aleksei, Evan and Mashka promptly gathered together.
     Evan scratched behind his ear as he searched for the right words.  “Ehem, er, Mashka, I suppose I was hasty leaving you hanging.”
     “Yes, you were.” Mashka replied, crossing her arms. But her stern face did not last for long as a slight smile appeared. “However I think that--,”  She stopped as she watched Anya walk by a couple metres away.
    Anya turned to the younger woman and cocked an eyebrow at Mashka’s uncertain expression. “Is something the matter? Judging by that face, it seems that you have something against me.”
     “Last time we were together you did try to kill me.” Mashka replied pointedly.
     “Oh, yeah, that…” Anya smirked impishly, “I was dealing with some anger issues, but with a little help I’m fine now.”
     Mashka put on her own snide smile. “Lobotomies really do wonders!” she said, shaking her head in mock disbelief.
     Anya’s smirk vanished and Mashka took the lead heading indoors.
~~~~~~~~~~
     Bruno stretched as he rose from his computer. His well-built body caused his t-shirt to groan in protest. He looked at his reflection in the office window. His scruff had finally turned into a full-fledged beard. He considered shaving. "Nah, might as well keep it until I can go back to Germany. Ingrid likes clean men, so I should enjoy my freedom while I can.”
     “Talking to your reflection I see.”
     Bruno leaned back. “People have habits.”
    “Mmm, indeed,” Kerry replied. “You ought to break up with her, such tiny disagreements as personal hygiene only fester into bigger ones.”
     Bruno resisted the temptation to roll his eyes. “The day I take relationship advice from you is the same day I’m admitted.”
     “Ouch! So cruel.” Kerry flicked his hair irritably behind his ears and glanced through the window. “Oh, we have guests.”
     Bruno seemed somewhat startled, but sighed when he realised it was just their returning colleagues. Kerry cocked an eyebrow, intrigued by his partner’s strange expression. Is he expecting… someone else I wonder? He forced himself to maintain his normal gentle smirk.
   Casting off his concerns, Dr. Kerry spun and exitedly called out to the returning teammates. “Oh Vlad and… whatever your name was, Danny?”
     The Czech grimaced. “It’s Dániel, not Danny, not Dan, and certainly not Denrikochi… just Dániel, that too hard to remember?”
     “Ooh, saucy are we, Dá-ni-el. I will try not to forget it this time.”
     Vlad smirked, crossing his fingers in hopes of a confrontation, but the Czech noticed his grin and asked indignantly, “What, you have name, why wouldn’t I?”
     Vlad shrugged nonchalantly. “I’m going to exercise, give me the meeting memo later.”
    “Would you like me to stop by with some tea for you later!” Kerry offered, clasping his hands excitedly.
     Vlad pointedly grabbed a bottle of water from the storage shelf and glared menacingly back before leaving.
     “Young people these days.” Kerry sighed. His eyes narrowed when he saw Evan enter. “Oh, so returns the prodigal son… care to re-join the central seven, or have you really left for good?”
     Evan shrugged off Kerry’s provocation, though the brunette next to him did not attempt to hide her immediate dislike of the snappish doctor.
   Pushing up his glasses Kerry gave Mashka the once over. He smirked and let out a disdainful huff, eliciting an even darker glare from the young woman.
     Twirling around the doctor beckoned the others to follow him into the office. “Come, the Administrator is waiting.”
     Mashka shot a nervous glance Evan’s way. He looked back at her and smiled, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder and whispered in her ear. “If they wanted to capture us, they would have.”
     “Yes, but you and I both know The Administrator is a crafty old man who likes to keep everyone guessing.”
     All Evan could answer to that was one more comforting pat on the shoulder. Mashka turned and beckoned for her brother to hurry up.
     Aleksei waved half-heartedly and picked up his pace a little, absently walking in front of Anya. At the door to the office he hesitated and gazed off to where he had glimpsed Vladimir disappear. He bit his lip.
     Behind him Anya waited impatiently for the boy to make up his mind when she realised what was bothering him. Her features softened ever so slightly. “If you want, you can find Vladimir in the building next to this one.”
     Aleksei looked back at her in surprise.
    She smiled, causing the youth to wonder whether she was putting on a show like his sister said she did, or if it was genuine warmth. “He has never spoken about you,” she said, “But I think it would be good for you two to get reacquainted.”
    Aleksei shuddered, remembering when he had seen his brother in the alley, three charred corpses in his wake. Sighing, he finally made up his mind and walked towards the warehouse Vlad was in.
     Anya watched the young man leave. She smiled ruefully at herself. There was only one thing that could soften her hardened heart, and that was love among family, not something she had experienced much of in recent years.
     Then with no further thought she stepped into office. The first thing that met her eyes was the face of The Administrator displayed on the farthest left of Bruno’s three gargantuan computer screens.
    He noticed her enter and smiled. “Well it seems that’s almost everyone, where is Aleksei?”
     Anya received a pointedly questioning look from Mashka as well. “He went to talk to his brother, he should be back soon.”
     “Very well, but what about Ravi?”
     “I’m right here.” Another door at the back of the opened and Ravi rolled in on a new wheelchair. He smiled at The Administrator. “It is good to finally see the face of the man who planned my rescue, though,” his smile vanished into a frown, “I would have preferred it if you did not have to rob my bank.”
     Mashka and Evan looked surprised at both his relatively cheerful face and his current state of being stuck in a wheelchair.  
     “Were you injured?” Evan asked.
     “No, not at all, I have never been able to walk,” Ravi explained.
     “But you were walking earlier.” Even insisted
     “Yes, but I can only stand when I am controlling someone else who is standing, and that takes a lot of mental strain to keep up if you understand.” He turned to greet the Administrator. “Despite your methods, I would have been killed by whoever they were.”
     “Not a problem Ravi, in the meantime let’s just say you do owe me a game of cards.”
     “Oh, sir, you hit my soft spot.” The swarthy banker grinned roguishly.
     Mashka exclaimed in confusion, “Wait just a moment! Why are you so happy about all of this? Da, these guys aren’t going to kill you like SICA, but they aren’t nice people either. When they went after my brother and I, there was chaos, which resulted in one of their men being killed, and us almost being made into assassins.”
     The Administrator grinned good naturedly. “And who exactly was at fault for most of that chaos miss?”
     “Don’t even get me started!” she hissed.
    The Administrator raised his hands playfully in resignation. “Alright, just calm down, I’m not here to argue. Besides, it was not exactly my choice for us to work together, but at the insistence of a certain someone we all know, you are just as involved in all of this as The Association.”
     “The girl in white?” Mashka asked.
    The Administrator raised a finger to his lips, but his smile confirmed her suspicions. “You are not the only pieces in this game.” The Administrator looked carefully at everyone’s reactions. The Czech, Mashka and Evan all seemed keyed into the situation. This left Bruno and Anya both perplexed at the exchange and for the briefest moment Kerry’s eyes widened before he too plastered on a confused expression.
     “Now, Ravi, please explain your role for the young lady here.”
    “Certainly,” Ravi replied then faced Mashka and Evan. “I lost use of my legs when I contracted polio as a child but about four months ago something odd started to happen. For example, one morning I could walk. Well in my jubilation I hurried out of room when suddenly I heard a crash downstairs and I tumbled to the ground. Well, my housekeeper hurried up the stairs and saw me lying there on the floor.  She told me that all of a sudden her body and moved by itself and had run into the dirty china on the counter, breaking it. Then she promptly scolded me for trying to move on my own. For the rest of the day I was paralysed. But I started to notice something. Within a few days my legs were no longer atrophied. Not to mention, the rest of my body was becoming very fit. I exercise regularly but my muscles were growing despite there being no increase in my routine.
     “Nothing else happened for a couple weeks and then I was walking again, this time in the parlour. I had no control of my body I was just jogging down the hall, and right towards the wall. I needed to stop so, somehow I regained control.
    “Then,” Ravi chuckled and rubbed his chin as he reminisced. “I looked outdoors and there was a woman, standing stock still, just like me on the sidewalk. I took a step back, and so did she. I stepped forward and she did too. It was all terribly bizarre. Then I felt it,” his eyes looked at Mashka earnestly. “You, being like me might know what I’m talking about, that sensation of being flooded with something strange and exhilarating. But alas, I knew I needed to let that woman go. So I shut myself off from that exhilaration, and tumbled to the floor, the lower half of my body once again limp.
     “So, after that, I sought out what could have caused this, discreetly of course. And to my surprise at a cocktail party of my peers, I met a man who was looking for me.  He informed me of my predicament and how I was in grave danger. He put me in contact with The Administrator and we plotted my “kidnapping,” which was supposed to happen in my home, but due to SICA, we had to change the location of events. The rest, all those present experienced first-hand.”
     The Administrator nodded. “I apologise to my staff for leaving them in the dark as well, but there were circumstances that I will disclose about later. In the meantime, we should be considering our next steps, namely the relocation of Ravi as well as Aleksei and Mashka.”
     “Relocation! Why?” Mashka demanded.
   “Obviously for your safety, SICA is aware of your existence and they will stop at nothing to ensure your extinction.”
     “But why does SICA want to kill us?”
    The Czech, Bruno and The Administrator averted their eyes awkwardly. On cue from The Administrator, Bruno spoke up, his words came slowly from deep within his broad chest. “They wish to kill you so that no more of your kind will manifest.”
     “But I understood it that we have our abilities genetically.  Doesn’t everyone have our gene?”
     Bruno nodded. “Yes, that is how the old Association tracked all the Jinn down, by following the more prominent genetic lines to predict where the gene would activate and then suppress it with the Chrysalis drug. However, SICA is of a different opinion.  They believe that Jinn are living anomalies and that they are constantly releasing trans-dimensional radicals which lead to more people becoming anomalies.  And from their viewpoint, we seem to be the only ones who can control you, and they don’t like that.  So, rather than have a powerful resource fall in their enemy’s hands, SICA destroys any Jinn they come across.”
     “So why don’t you just tell them that it’s genetic?” Mashka asked.
     Bruno shook his head. “We were the ones who convinced them it’s not. Furthermore, if they knew it was genetic it would make hunting you all down much easier, not to mention they have the resources to secretly sterilise genetically susceptible groups, and that would end our grand project even faster.”
     She nodded but then looked curiously at George then back at the Administrator. “So, you are all of a sudden okay with letting Jinn know that they are a naturally occurring phenomena?”
     The Administrator nodded. “There were two reasons why we contrived a story for you and your brother. First, it was something that would drive you to be more compliant. Second, we needed to flush out a traitor, telling you such a blatant lie would give him ammunition against us, therefore giving him a way to gain your trust and make his move, and Dr. Salaam did so very conveniently.”
     Mashka’s eyes flared angrily and her already permanently oblong pupils fully elongated in her wrath as her eyes began to shift towards amber.
     Dr. Kerry’s eyes immediately reacted to her unleashed powers so he averted his gaze to return his vision to normal but he caught a glimpse of the Sharov twins’ powers in the neighbouring building.  How amusing.
~~~~~~~~~~
     Vlad kicked the air, dropped down, then lashed out across the floor. He rose again and repeated the movement, practicing his weight shifts. He heard the metallic sound of the warehouse door opening. He sighed in irritation at the prospect of Anya coming in to bother him again. He was instead surprised when he turned to look and saw the brown haired boy from earlier.
     “What brings you here?  There’s nothing to see.”
     “Hey, Vladimir.” Aleksei avoided using the familiar form of his brother’s name.
     Vlad squinted in the dimly lit room, he was confused by the familiar voice.  'That’s not…'
    “The brown hair is probably throwing you off.” Aleksei walked forward.  “But it’s me, Lyosha.”
     At the sound of his brother’s nickname, Vlad stopped in surprise as recognition hit him.
     “It’s been a rather long time hasn’t it?” Aleksei continued.
     “What makes you think that I want to speak to you?” Vlad’s eyes glinted dangerously.
     Aleksei was taken aback by his brother’s tone.  “Umm, ah…”  He found himself at a loss for words.
     Vlad walked forward silently and made to pass by his brother, as if he was not even there.
     As Vlad passed by, Aleksei lowered his head sadly. He should have assumed that his brother would have no interest in him. From the beginning they were destined for different directions. However, when he heard his brother’s steps stop just behind him, an odd feeling resembling hope pulsed in his heart. He began to twist his head when the back of Vlad’s heel made contact with Aleksei’s side.
     The force of the sudden roundhouse kick sent Aleksei slamming into the pallet of large brown bags. The white flour within burst forth, enveloping him in a cloud. Just as the air began to clear and he felt safe opening his eyes, he found his throat enclosed in his brother’s tight grip. He gagged for breath and looked fearfully into his brother’s face.
     “So, you really think I would be pleased to see you? The only thing I could ever wish from you is as an opponent worth killing. After all, we are identical twins, so it’s safe to say that you have powers. Are they the same as mine, or something different? I’m dying to see-- no, you are the only one who’s going to die here.” Vlad raised his left hand, cupping the air beside him in view of his brother. A bright, hot light appeared around his palm.
     Aleksei could feel heat beginning to singe his hair.  To his relief, the light died.  He looked up to see Vlad’s mildly disappointed face.
     “No… I thought not.  Judging by that look of fear, you are nothing in comparison to me.  A nobody, not even worth killing.” He flung Aleksei away like a rag doll.
     Aleksei slid across the smooth floor whilst gasping for breath. Immediately he began backing away.
     Vlad stood still. Staring in malicious pity at his brother. “Are you even going to try to use your manifestation to defend yourself?” He raised his hand again, this time it turned a pale colour as frost appeared upon his skin and a pure glow pulsed over his palm.
     Aleksei’s eyes widened at his hostility.  'If I don’t do something, is he really going to kill me?' He raised his left hand and began twirling his his wrist. Water vapour from the air within the room materialised into white streams between the two of them, forming to a vertical cyclonic disc.
     Vlad cocked his head in curiosity. “Huh, intriguing.” He extended his hand, intending to blast through the disc, but the fog suddenly twisted into a cone and lashed out at his face. He dodged easily but was surprised when the stream smoothly curved and smacked his face to the side as if he had been slapped, leaving behind a stinging sensation. He glared back indignantly, irritated by the half-hearted strike.
     Aleksei had backed further away. He brought a stream of fog around him like a snake and sent a narrow stream towards Vlad.
     Vlad simply raised his fiery hand and the mist seemed to be devoured into nothingness. The young man sighed and was about to make another stinging insult when he heard a disembodied shriek from behind him.  He did not even have time to turn around and look as a giant maw rushed through the door and engulfed him.
     Aleksei flung his right hand out and shoved his concealed brother within the throat of the dragon. Vlad felt his feet take leave of the ground in the blinding whiteness, his body buffeted by swirling currents. When he was finally vomited out of the throat of mist he tumbled and rolled across the hard cement and brought himself to a stop as he skillfully leapt to a crouch and glared back at his brother.
     “Much better!” Vlad taunted, pointing towards his brother’s face.  “That is a look worth killing.”
   Aleksei’s grim face was unmoving as vapour tumbled off his body and rolled transparently across the floor.
      Vlad raised his hand and a blast of heat seared through the air.
     Expecting this action. Aleksei caused the dragon he had expanded into a wide corridor to collapse, forming a thick trunk between himself and his brother to absorb and scatter the heat. The storehouse shook with the sound of super-heated steam hissing through the roof.

Episode Twenty One:
Coup de Grâce, Deuxième Partie

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     Océane hugged herself tightly as she regained her composure, hoping to not draw any attention from the other passengers on the bus she had lured Pierre into. It was taking all her concentration to maintain the nightmare and try to distance herself from Pierre’s thoughts, and even more importantly, his emotions. Tears of pain and sadness rolled down her face, contrasting with the wicked grin.
     With the greatest of determination she stood up and pulled the bell cord for the next stop. Raising her palms to chest level, she gritted her teeth, and whispered through her still smiling lips, “This nightmare will end!”
~~~~~~~~~~
     Before Pierre’s eyes, the young boy sitting in the corner suddenly stiffened.  In a flash he turned into transparent glass and shattered.  But the shards did not fall more than a couple centimetres before they flew through the air in a stream towards the front of the train car. There they spun horizontally in the shape of a narrow tube.  Suddenly the pieces fused together into a long rod and rested in the hands of a dark silhouette that brightened to reveal the golden haired, frost clad angel.
     “Found you!” The angel smiled as a scythe blade erupted out of the end of the crystal rod. She spun as a dervish would and glowed with sacred fire. She slowed her twirling rushed forward.
    The paralysis that had gripped Pierre released and he scrambled away from her. He tripped, avoiding imminent decapitation and fell against the dark wall. He felt the wall stretch then snap.  The entire structure he had been inside popped like a bubble and he found himself one again on the dark, featureless street of the strange city.
     He did not have long to observe his surroundings as once again her heard the small feet of his attacker patter on the ground. He leapt forward, rolled and ran down the hill.
~~~~~~~~~~
     'I can’t keep up with him.' Océane groaned. She looked at her shoulder. 'Or maybe… I can!'
     She placed her scythe blade against her shoulder and pulled forward, slicing her arm cleanly off. Her removed limb hit the ground stiffly and turned the color of molasses as it disintegrated into a puddle. The slimy substance then rose up in a twisted column and her shoulder stub leaked more of the strange fluid, joining with the puddle. She rolled her shoulder and flung her body forward causing the dark brown substance to fly towards Pierre like an unrolling carpet as it remained tethered to her shoulder. The brown slime split into four dark streams cruising in the air far above where the terrified man ran. Lines joined the four streams creating what looked like a slice of a spider web. Finally Océane rolled her shoulder viciously downwards. Her movement rand down the four intertwined strings, launching their tips downwards to Pierre, growing rapidly longer and larger.
     As Océane wanted, they did not reach him, instead, like living eels connected by slimy, horizontal ropes of flesh, they hit the ground and slithered as if dancing through water. They wove around light posts, mailboxes, and buildings, leaping and ducking over one another, continuing to grow towards their target.
     Pierre was not even looking where he was going when he ran into a wall.  He found himself trapped in a dead end, surround by merciless black walls and a red sky above.  He turned around to see that the way he came was blocked by the web-creature, it’s dripping brown mass raising its four “heads” as if they were conjoined cobras, ready to strike. His desperate eyes roved around, hoping that like before, there was some way out of this bizarre world. He wanted to plead, 'I don’t want to die!' But then he thought, 'But… am I already dead?  Is this what hell is like?' Tears streamed down his face as he collapse to his knees.
     'Papa… Why did you give up and leave me?  I’m scared…'
     He winced as the monster in front of him lurched forward a few metres. He saw its tail whip over its head and land in front of him, angel in tow. The creature shrunk into a small, tangled net draped around the angel’s feet, staining her pure white dress turning the hem and right side of the gown the colour of old blood as it writhed and wiggled from her severed shoulder.
     The angel raised her crystal scythe and leaned it against her left shoulder casually.  Her lips opened revealing beautiful, perfect teeth as she grinned at him. “So, Pierre, are you ready to accept your first, of many deaths to come?”
     “Please, have mercy!” he wept, not even willing to raise his face from the dirt.
     A knot tightened itself in Océane’s stomach as she frowned. 'This is not sweet… I hate this man, but I hate myself more for thinking I could relish this sight.' She looked away as she lowered the blade of her frozen scythe to the man’s neck.  The man whimpered pitifully at the touch.
     “Before I kill you once, I have two questions that I have been wanting answered; first, did you defile that woman before, or after you killed her?”
    Pierre’s eyes widened in terrified revulsion.  What is she saying!?  It… “It was an accident!”
     Océane ignored him and continued, “And secondly, were you, or were you not aware of the small child that witnessed you murdering his mother?”
     “A-a--, a child? A child!” Pierre’s face was pure disbelief.  He ran through his memory of the event, but it was mostly clouded with the effects of the copious amounts of alcohol he had drunk that night. All he could remember was the ribbon of red that ran from the heart of a beautiful body. For one of the few times in his life, he tried to see what had happened through another pair of eyes. What he saw, unleashed the long buried guilt of his actions. Pierre felt the pressure of the blade against his neck press harder. “No! Please!” he screamed. “I killed a woman, I really did, I took everything away from that child! But please, have mercy on me!”
     He dared to look up at the face of the angel but instead found himself looking in the eyes of a police officer as she backed away from the prostrate man. He felt his arms tugged from behind and cuffs secured his wrists. He looked at the inside of the police station where he now found himself. He smiled as tears rolled down his face, happy to be alive and in such a warm and kind world compared to the one he had been torn into.
     Lieutenant Porter walked over to Devareaux who now took a seat, shell-shocked. “You alright Sarah?”
     “Eh? Oui, it’s fine, it’s not every day a murderer throws himself on the ground in front of you and pleads guilty. I’m a little stunned is all.”
     Michael nodded. “It’s strange too, it was only yesterday that Océane pointed that man out as the guilty party in the cold case she was digging up.”
     “He ran through the front doors as if he was being chased by a pack of wild dogs.” Sarah explained, taking another calming breath, but the air caught in her throat. “You don’t think--, the girl did something?”
     Michael followed her gaze to the glass door absentmindedly. His mouth dropped in surprise as he could clearly make out a girl wearing the same school uniform Océane wore turning away from the station and limping down the sidewalk. 'Not a chance!'
     “Excuse me Sarah, I’m going to have to take my break now.”
     “Go for it.” She stared in wonderment as her co-worker dashed out of the door.
~~~~~~~~~~
     Océane wearily made her way back home as the sky darkened.  She had exhausted all her ability to think after the intense mental strain of maintaining someone else’s nightmare. She wanted to smile, to confirm that she had accomplished something good, but nothing felt right. However, at the moment she was far too tired and emotionally drained to reason about anything.
     She was so unaware of her surroundings, her whole focus was on putting one foot in front of the other, ignoring the important fact that the walk home was a fair distance. The first noise that brought her out of the daze was in was her own name.
      “Océane! Hey, Océane!”
     She did not even have to turn around to know it was Michael’s voice. No, he saw me! She stumbled forward as quickly as she could but only managed a hurried limp. She inwardly cursed the contraption that bound and supported her leg. However, she regretted her rude thoughts towards the inanimate object when her knee buckled and she began to topple forward.
     She was tugged back by her hand, preventing her from smacking face first into the concrete.
      “Océane!” Michael ordered as he pulled her up, “Wait!  I just want to talk.”
      Océane could not look at him. 'What can I say?'
    “Listen, you are not in trouble, I just want to know how you are involved.” Michael insisted. “You didn’t endanger yourself, did you?”
     She tried hard not to roll her eyes. 'I think “trouble” would be exactly the right word for what I would be in if he did know.'
    Michael sighed as he looked at the still turned away Océane as she regained her own balance, though he did not release her hand. “Océane, whatever you did, no one else has to know if you don’t want them to. Please, something good happened today, I just need to know why and how.”
      “C-could this wait for tomorrow?” she asked tiredly.
     "You promise?" he pressed.
     She nodded.
     The policeman sighed in relief as he released her hand, glancing around at onlookers to reassure them nothing was going on. He had no wish to coerce her to talk and was glad she agreed so easily. “Come by the station at around noon. Would you like me to drive you home?”
      At last she turned around and gently smiled with a nod.  “Oui... et merci.”
    The ride was silent and even when Océane got out in front of her family’s apartment building, she only barely whispered, “Bonsoir.”
       Michael smiled and replied.  “Are you sure you don’t need to talk now?”
     For a moment, Océane felt like she was more of a co-worker, and less of a temporary intern, a notion she shrugged off as ridiculous. “Non, Inspecteur, I’m fine. We’ll talk tomorrow.”
     She left him, and hurried up the stairway. Pausing at the door to her apartment, she readied herself when the door opened and she was met by the disapproving gaze of her mother.
     “And where have you been?” her mother demanded. “We got a call that you skipped out on school.”
     Normally Océane would panic and try to explain, but this time, she had an excuse that was well worth use. “Oh, I haven’t been up to much, just finished my free elective course, solved a cold case and spent time with the police. I will tell you all about it later, right now though, I need a nap.”
     Mrs. Lafayette’s face was reduced to a blank stare as her daughter shuffled off to her room. It did not last long though.
     “Pardon!?” she exclaimed as she marched after daughter.

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Episode III: Detour

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     Kahlen hastily packed his possessions and then made one long look at his room. His bedroom was small with a compact closet and a study desk.  It also had a wide window on the left wall next to his bed. He opened it and sat on the sill one last time. He pressed his back against one end and his feet against the other. His knees stuck up in the middle, he remembered when he could just barely touch both sides of the window, it made him smile at how much things had changed.  
     He looked down at the two stories below him. He had never been afraid of falling since there was a balcony belonging to the neighbours just his window. He would sit there and read, think, or just look at the city he loved so much. The main reason he liked Medao was that every roof was topped with a garden.  There were even patches of forest growing on some roofs towards the old city. Deer, birds, small mammals, and some not-so-small reptiles lived throughout the city.  All the roofs were connected by sky bridges in such a vast network that it was said you could live your entire life in Medao and never touch ground level. Stores, markets, and services could be found at any height, though most buildings did not exceed four stories. He liked the little place he and his father called home. It was four rooms, his bedroom, his dad’s, a wash-room, and a living area.  The house was on the top story of a large multi-home brick building which surrounded a central courtyard, typical of residential housing of that quarter of the city.  The windows offered a beautiful view of the city and the lake to the south.  He could also see the old city with domes of the important buildings surrounded by houses topped with ancient trees. Wildlife was most dense on those rooftops. The creatures had for generations never left the city, humans were everyday passers-by to them, especially since hunting was illegal within the city unless specifically warranted. The only thing which broke the city into sections was the river delta.  However many buildings and bridges straddled the canals.
     He got up from the window, stopped for one last look of the skyline, and walked away. He grabbed his bag and shut off the lights and looked again at his home.  He thought of how lonely it was being the only one here.  He shivered, for some reason he knew he would be the only one to see it again, but he did not know where such a notion came from
~~~~~~~~~~
     During his train ride to the base Kahlen sent text and recorded messages to various people explaining he was going on a trip for a month, maybe more. He also sent feeding instructions for his cat to the neighbourhood council to ensure Namien would not go hungry.
     Once he arrived at the base he made a beeline to the window overlooking the hangar and gazed down at the Yasha. She was a lot more than just a scientific leap in travel technology, she was the only hope for the empire to defeat her enemies. The Cohorans were pressing hard on the neutral zone, very soon the ceasefire would end and the empire would be plunged into war. The space-folding slipstream technology in the Yasha would be what would keep them a step ahead. But even with the Yasha, would his people be able to recover from two centuries of retreat?
    He looked at the clock on the computer monitor and decided to break his solemn thoughts and continue preparations for the trip. He had his own luggage with him in the office and he walked out into the hangar with bag in hand. He had packed light for the voyage, never being the sort of person to keep unnecessary belongings.
     Most people were still asleep as he walked into the Yasha. It still felt strange to him to now have regular given access to a new part of the base. He put his luggage in a drawer which slid out from under his bed in one of the two sleeping rooms. After doing one last inventory he exited the vessel and sat on the cold hangar floor hugging his knees. He liked to sit this way; it made him feel safe when he was unsure about something. Something was wrong, not with the Yasha itself, every diagnostic imaginable had been run and she was voyage ready.  But still a strange foreboding quiver had settled in his gut and would not let go.
     Kahlen was so deep in his thoughts he did not hear the footsteps until they were right behind him. “What are you thinking?”
     He jumped in surprise and turned to see a greying man with kind face.  He recognized him as the chief engineer.
     “I’m sorry,” the engineer said, his amber eyes showing concern, “I did not mean to surprise you.”
     “Oh it’s not your fault, I was just elsewhere.”  Kahlen assured.
    “You’re Kahlen I presume.” he extended his hand, “My name is Oren Dara, chief engineer.”
     Kahlen stood, shook his hand and bowed respectfully in the manner a youth shows respect to an elder. The gesture, much to Kahlen’s surprise, was returned.
     “I am honoured to meet you; the Yasha component is ingenious.”
     “Thank you sir, but my father and uncle did nearly all the work, it was my father’s theory and idea,” Kahlen said earnestly.
     “Yes it was,” Oren said seeming to give in, and then continued, “but it was you who found the initial flaws. It would not have been possible without you. You have proven yourself to be years ahead of the rest of us.”
     Kahlen did not have a reply.
     “I hope to have the honour of working with you for a long time to come.” Dara finished.
     “As do I sir.”
     By now people were beginning to stir and the hangar came to life.  Soon the two of them were surrounded by the buzz of voyage preparations and so after some polite conversation they said farewell and headed to their own tasks.
~~~~~~~~~~
    Preparations progressed smoothly, there was no need to rush as everything was on schedule. Kahlen, despite his initial feelings felt confident. They would be launching very soon but he felt completely at peace.
     His father leaned into the lab and beckoned him, “Kahlen, time for the ceremony.”
     The whole crew involved with the running of the Yasha Project stood in rows before the vessel. Everyone inclined their heads as an enlisted local elder, each person gave a gesture of respect to the elder in accordance with their individual sect.  Kahlen, his father and uncle grasped the thin forelock braids which were pulled back and fastened behind their necks. These braids symbolized they were part of the Yerana sect of the Ailar religion. As Yerana they accepted the newer prophesies but still held to pre-Ailar traditions. This elder had come to give Heaven's blessing to the voyage and the future of the ship. Kahlen came up beside his father and uncle. The elder walked forward, put one hand on the vessel and with the other he held one of the sacred writings. He read a few passages about Heaven's protection to those who wander, that whatever may happen He will help them find their way home. The passage was literally about a sinner's errors before returning to the Heaven's light but it was often read before a physical journey as well. The elder gave a final blessing.  This blessing was given to all vessels, that wherever they may go they shall carry their passengers safely home. At the end of the elder’s blessing a loud cheer roared three times, “R’Ojei ne Suienki!”
     After the prayer Kahlen was handed an icon of a local saint to place over a doorway within the vessel then his father, and his uncle boarded and immediately began system scans. A transparent screen was projected in front of the helm, the list of test one by one turned from orange to blue as their respective parts of the ship were proven functional.
     “All systems go. Ura out” Kahlen‘s uncle said over the communicator.
     “Hangar doors opening.” the director replied.
     Kahlen sat as co-pilot next to his father. After the hangar doors opened they were given permission to launch.  The engines fired up and the Yasha launched through the tunnel and out into the grey midday sky.  They made a great arch and then a steep incline into the clouds. Despite the great speed, the Yasha’s own gravity kept them from feeling but the slightest motion. For awhile they were inside the grey clouds until they gave way to blue sky and finally the brilliant stars of the night. Kahlen was awestruck by how many stars there were. Back on the ground he had never seen the stars because of the ever present clouds covering the planet. But now he saw millions of them covering every little space. He looked down at the schematics showing where the Yasha was in relation to the planet.  They were a small dot blinking over a dull silver sphere.
     "Woah!" Kahlen exclaimed, seeing the gas giant, Pleora, which their world Ini orbited along with her sister inhabited moon, Aida.  The gaseous behemoth had bands of violent, yellow and orange currents tracing over its surface blending at their margins.  All his life this view was hidden by his home-world's thick atmosphere, but if it was visible from the ground he knew Pleora would cover much of the sky.
     “General, requesting permission to leave orbit and prepare for seeding.”  his father said.
“Permission granted Rhora.” the director replied.
     Rhora turned to his son, “Initiate the primary engines.”
     “Yes sir,” Kahlen pressed a few buttons on the control panel in front of him, “Engines initiated, ready for acceleration.”
     Rhora steered the Yasha away from the planet and towards the edge of the solar system. The drive moved space around them at about fifteen times the speed of light until they arrived at the edge of their solar system in seven minutes and were ready to begin phase two, their home star now just a pinpoint behind them.
     The ship slowed to a halt and Rhora again contacted the base, “We have arrived at the disembarkation site, preparing to seed time-space slipstream.”
    “Message received, The generals will be waiting to congratulate you at Sepho, Godspeed.”
     “Alright Kahlen, ready the Yasha drive.”
   “Yes sir,” Kahlen hands flew over controls, “Computer is calculating route,” again he paused. There was a chirp and he finished, “route ready, estimated travel distance; 60 light-years; estimated travel time; 2 days.”
     “Wow!” Kahlen’s uncle exclaimed, “It sounds so much faster when you actually hear it.”
     “Yes,” Kahlen replied, “Moving space at over two thousand times the speed of light, it's unfathomable.”
     Kahlen then turned to his father, “The Yasha is ready to seed a slipstream and depart.”
      “Proceed,”
     Kahlen touched one final pad and a hum could be heard from the Yasha engine.  The stars before them seemed to ripple because of the gravitational force being emitted from the Yasha. Then the Yasha sped forward and the stars began to crawl by like distant landmarks when seen from a speed train.
     There was dead silence until Kahlen jumped from his seat and yelled, “We just broke the speed record!”
     His father and uncle joined the jubilation.
~~~~~~~~~~
     Several hours later, Kahlen sat with his uncle playing a board game. He was obviously winning as his uncle groaned when us nephew took out yet another of his pieces.
     His father, Zhadu, walked in and greeted them, “How is the game going?”
     “Well-,” “-Terrible,” they both replied simultaneously.
     “Kahlen, sorry to disappoint your victory but you both need to get your sleep.”
     “Yes sir, good night.” Kahlen left for the quarters. “I can beat uncle Ura tomorrow.”
~~~~~~~~~~
    Thump! Kahlen was violently thrown from his bed onto the floor. Something was wrong. He staggered out of the sleeping quarters and to the door of the bridge. It opened for him just as some inertial force pushed him forward and made him hit the floor of the bridge.  
     He shakily stood and called out, “What is happening?”
    “We have been pulled into a much stronger slipstream and are heading off course.” his uncle replied.
     “Kahlen, check our navigation.” his father ordered.
     Kahlen went to the back consol and looked. His eyes grew wide, “The readings are off the charts, the computers must be damaged. We are outside any familiar star patterns.” Kahlen looked up into his father’s grim face.
     Zhadu stared back and then turned to the controls, his fingers moving wildly. He turned around, his eyes seeming to be wet, “Son, we are going to try to slow the ship down. I need you to go into the dorm and get into one of the impact protection units.”
     Kahlen shook his head, “No dad, I’m going to stay with you.”
     Zhadu grabbed his son’s shoulders, “I promise, your uncle and I will follow as soon as we make these final adjustments which will hopefully help us escape the slipstream. I need you to stay in the protective unit, now go.”
     Kahlen made his way back to the sleeping room and pulled down a panel. Its seat flipped downwards. He climbed into it and pressed a button on the armrest. The sides of the chair seemed to inflate. It grew around his legs and body as the sides filled with a highly insulating fluid, keeping him still. Tears began to flow down his face. “Farewell dad, farewell uncle.”  It was the last thing he said before the crash.

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Episode Twenty:
Coup de Grâce, Premiére Partie

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     The evening sun sprayed golden orange hues over the bustling streets of Lyon as Pierre began his walk. He considered going home, but the night was about to begin, and there was many a secluded bar calling his name. Places where bored women go, seeking thrills to take them away from their boring lives. For a several blocks he strolled down the street and then around the corner. The noise of the city suddenly died down. He raised his eyebrow curiously at the sudden decrease in noise.  The street seemed practically empty, only a rare drunk would stagger by.
     Pierre must have been seeing things. This street, with all its pubs and bars would always be filled with the noise of laypersons casting aside their worries. All the shops seemed to be open, but where were the customers?
     Did I forget a holiday? he wondered as he shuffled forward through the empty street.  Then his heart leapt and he grinned. Tonight is not going to be a waste after all.
     There, leaning against a lamppost beside the darkest most cluttered alley, was a woman, no, girl, no more than seventeen. Her hair was pulled up, save for a brown tresses that concealed her eyes and tumbled to her small shoulders. Her body he could tell was delightfully proportioned, even her legs, which he had enjoyed imagining their appearance if her uniform skirt was cut several inches higher. Her pink lips looked youthful and lonely, explaining why she would be in an area like this.
     And the best part of this beautiful sight, was that she was alone, no one was around. Smiling his most charming Frenchman’s smile, with a hint of coy sarcasm he asked her. “Jeune fille, pourquoi êtes vous ici?”
     The girl remained silent, merely turned her head slightly, allowing her hair to tumble back and leave her graceful neck, jaw, and cheek exposed.
     Pierre raised his hand and brushed a few strands of her hair aside.  “Pourquoi ne vous cachez-vous les yeux?” He ran his fingers along the bottom of her jaw and relished the excited and nervous quiver he caused.
     He began to lean forward but his intentions were interrupted when she raised a folded piece of paper to his chest. He would have ignored it, but something made him curious about it.  So he took it, and with one more lustful glance at the base of the girl‘s neck, he unfolded the note.
     His heart skipped a beat as he lifted the final fold, displaying the woman from years ago, sitting against the brick wall, a trail of red blood spilling down from her heart.
     Not caring to look if anyone was watching Pierre snatched the girl roughly by her neck and wrist and wrenched her into the alley, slamming her back against the wall.  “Where did you get this?!” he hissed
     Finally the girl raised her head and stared at him with mocking brown eyes. “The cries of the dead, are louder than you give them credit.”
     A shiver ran down Pierre’s spine, his hand tingled and burned as if he were touching something unnatural. “Who are you?!” He demanded, shaking her.
      Suddenly he heard a snap and the girl before him turned a sickly pail, her eyes clouded over and she fell stiffly against him.  Pierre let out a gasp of horror as he let the corpse of the girl collapse to the ground.
     “How does it feel?”
    Pierre whirled around to see the same girl standing further down the alleyway, tapping a plastic pipe against her legbrace. He looked back and the corpse was gone.
     “How does it feel?” she repeated. “To extinguish a life not yet ready to depart?”  A breeze rustled the girl’s hair and the strange green light akin to St. Elmo’s fire filled the space. “You asked who I was?  I am the attorney of weary souls, here to ease their suffering. But to you, I am the executioner.” As she spoke, her hair curled and became like spun gold and her clothing transformed as her dress turned the colour and texture of winter frost. The thin, plastic pipe she had been fiddling with in one hand turned to transparent ice and lengthened and bent into a crystalline scythe.  From her back sprouted two wings made of morning dew and spider webs that shimmered like thousands of prisms, banishing the green light and replacing it with holy brilliance.
     In complete disbelief Pierre shook his head.  “I have to be dreaming.”
    Unseen to Pierre, Océane leaned against the lamppost behind him and frowned. Perhaps I overdid it, if this is going to work I need to…  She smiled again withdrew the box cutter from her sweater pocket.
     Pierre pinched his face, trying to wake himself when the “angel” before him rushed and then retreated and he felt something cold and sharp brush by his cheek.  He felt warm drops run down his face.
     “Whether you believe in God or not, I trust even you know what the touch of a blade feels like.” The angel grinned.
     Pierre shuddered a moment, then ran. Océane smiled and dropped the box-cutter. From where she stood outside the alley she commanded her illusionary angel to pursue the man as she began to set up the next scenario of torment inside his mind.
     Panting heavily, Pierre fled at a full sprint. His eyes swerving and sifting through the confused throngs of people as he ploughed onwards. Just when he thought he lost her the angel was once again in front of him. He dodged just in time to avoid a low uppercut swipe of the icy scythe that left a thin cut in the side-walk where he had been standing. He spun around, just missing a light post that he placed between himself and the girl’s next attack. Her scythe was a shimmering blur and Pierre watched in terror as the light pole that had so briefly granted him shelter toppled, having been cut cleanly in three places.
     The angel looked up at Pierre with one sapphire eye, the other hidden by her luxurious blond tresses, not a single drop of sweat on her porcelain skin. The man found himself unable look away. In that moment of hesitation the girl’s eye turned black and out of the void spewed dark threads that grew into leaf-like hands on noodle arms that grasped and wrapped around Pierre, then dragged him into the black maw of her void.
     Pierre tumbled out of the darkness and looked up at a red sky with scattered clouds the colour of old blood. With a thump he landed on the damp cobble stone, his body strangely not crumpled. He looked around and found himself in the midst of a city, but unlike Lyon, the buildings were all black and windowless, contrasting against the red sky and complementing the smile of the inky crescent moon.
     The skeletal shadows of spider’s webs cast themselves over where the man stood.  He looked up and at the top of one of the featureless black buildings stood the silhouette of the avenging angel.
     For several moments there was silence, nothing was happening. Just him, standing in a hellish Lyon staring up at the disdainful eyes of an angel, then he felt the earth tremble, and all around the empty cobblestone streets, black forms began to rise from the ground.  They had no uniform shape, but every now and then, Pierre could spot what looked like an arm, a leg, or a head appear at various positions of their form. In unison all of them turned their “heads” towards him.
     He bolted, running like he had never before, knowing that at any moment one of those black forms would snatch at him. Dashing down the street he ran down a hill only to see another group of formless beings.  They were grappling with each other until gradually they devoured one another and grew into ever larger amorphous forms. This time fully formed arms grew out of their membranes and pulled black scythe blades from their “mouths”. One of these creatures with two heads and three scythe wielding arms leapt towards him, spinning like a frenzied dervish, the blades obliterating buildings and light posts.
He froze, unable to move.  He thought numbly about what it would feel like being sliced to pieces. He hoped it would be too fast to feel a thing. The blob approached, but instead of scythe blades touching him, the belly of the thing opened its maw and he was swallowed into blackness.
~~~~~~~~~~
Outside of the nightmare, Océane leaned wearily against a lamp post as she followed the hysteric Pierre. She looked at the bystanders. To her relief most of them were intent on ignoring him, probably assuming he was just a man who had a bit too much of something.
This is much easier. With the world stripped down to such a basic outline, there are not as many potential inconsistencies to worry about. But I need to hurry! I don’t know how much longer I can keep this up.
~~~~~~~~~~
     Darkness, even when Pierre opened his eyes, there was only darkness. But then he saw thin streams of light blink. He realised then that he was covering his face with his hands.  Her raised his head and looked around. He was sitting on a soft bench, with a metal hand rail right next to him. He seemed to be inside a bus or a train, and all the interior was black and brown. A strange, piercing bright light shown through the windows behind the opposite bench. The light was blinking rapidly, as if it was being blocked by buildings or poles then becoming visible again. The vehicle must have entered a tunnel, because the world turned pitch black once again.
     Light returned and with it, Pierre found that he was no longer alone. At the opposite corner of the vehicle sat a young boy, no older than five, who was staring at him. His big brown eyes empty and lifeless.
     The boy sang, his voice sounding like whispers in a bone filled tomb,
          “Maman never came home that night
          The sun was gone and the cold did bite
          I walked up to the shadowy place
          There I found her resting by a case
          A big, red line ran a funny trail
          And her tender face was very pale
          In her eyes I saw a man
          And I shall find him if I can
         When I find him one bright day
          I’ll ask him why he took maman away…”
     As the final words left the boys lips, his eyes seemed to gain life as they watered up and tears rolled down his cheeks. He did not say another word, just sat and waited for Pierre’s reply.
     All colour had drained from the man’s face. His eyes widened when he realised that he was not breathing. His mouth wanted to open, but he was afraid, afraid of the words that would pour forth.  Finally, he could not bear it without air any longer.
     “I-I never meant to kill her!  I was drunk and--” He coughed as guilt finally broke out of the tiny corner of his chest he had buried it in.  “And I did not know what I was doing!”
The boy cocked his head, seeming almost curious if it were not for the grieved eyes and streams of tears.
~~~~~~~~~~
   At the back of the bus Océane cringed, 'Not doing poetry again, that was embarrassing...' her self-criticism was short-lived when she gasped as her chest tightened. She felt invisible chains surround her and pull at her, as though they were dragging her underwater, leaving her unable to breath. Her eyes wildly twitched in all directions as the whites were cut across by red veins. A powerful migraine struck at her skull and she hunched over, her arms across her stomach as all her effort went into maintaining her mental grip on Pierre.

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Episode Nineteen:
Rendezvous

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     Océane departed from school early, offering herself yet another chance to practice the power Claire had granted her when she met a teacher in the hall. She made herself look like the principle before his eyes. He nodded in acknowledgement to a non-existent face above her head.  
     Through the last day of experimentation, she was beginning to discover the limits of the gift. She could make someone see something that was not there, but she could not make herself invisible. A person’s brain notices that there is a figure before it. All she could do was distort that figure. Thus far, she was limited mostly to visual cues, but she was beginning to discover ways to manipulate perceptions of other sounds, like changing a kitten’s meow into a haunting cry.
     She did not even bother changing out of her uniform, it would suit her task. She looked at her watch. Claire had told her that Pierre Renoir would be off work at five o’clock on his way home. She had three hours and being in no hurry, she took a detour. There was something she wanted to remember, and there was a certain place which cradled that memory.
     When she turned the corner she beheld a street of some of the oldest and tightest packed homes in the city, built back in the pre-revolution era. Her gaze locked onto the third house on the left.
     The day she was last here came back to her so vivid it felt as if it was happening all over again.
     On a sunny summer day ten years ago, her mother held her hand, taking her to  a weekend ballet class as was their routine. She heard familiar laughter, the kind that made one think of spring and young life. She looked up, and saw the third story balcony. Little Océane halted, much to her mother’s surprise.
     “Qu'est-ce que c'est, cherie?” Her mother asked.
     Océane did not reply. She was too entranced. For the first time, she saw her, the blonde girl with whom all her dreams were shared.  At the age of seven, Océane realised that she was a copy. She had no dreams of her own, everything she was she had been inherited from the girl, twirling in a white dress, her curly blond tresses floating in the breeze.
    Young Océane smiled. Brunette and bland Océane had a secret with gracious Claire. She wanted to run and greet the girl that she had never met but already knew from their shared dreams. They were the best of friends, two halves that made a whole, though they never before had met in person.
     With one more spin, the girl twirled and brought herself to a halt, leaning on the steel railing of the balcony. Her wandering blue eyes locked with Océane’s and her smile brightened at the girl on the opposite street below her. Her mouth opened to call a greeting.
     Océane mouthed her name ‘Claire’, still trying to overcome her surprise. The next second would echo in her mind for years. The hollow, snapping sound of the railing joints breaking pierced the centre of Océane’s heart. The golden hair twirled beautifully as the girl tumbled from where she leaned like an angel cast from heaven.
     All of Océane senses went numb, she did not hear her mother gasp in horror, nor did she hear the noise of the girl’s body hitting the side-walk like a bag of flour. All she heard was the eternal snapping of the iron railing.
     She did not bid her body to move, but Océane found herself running out into the quiet street.  She did not see the white car hurtle around the corner and she felt no pain when the bumper slammed into her right leg, snapping her shin bone in three.  The next thing she knew she was tumbling through the air, like a cast aside doll, but eyes looked only at the white, beautiful folds of the dress and the fair girl who even in death lay in a graceful pose as she as her gown turned red.
     Océane lay on the pavement, feeling no pain for her eyes were glued on the girl who was surrounded by people, her father dashing out of the door letting out a heart wrenching howl of sorrow when he saw his broken daughter.
     Océane raised a broken and twisted hand, trying desperately to reach for the woven gold locks. She wanted to touch them, to feel the hair of her closest friend, the one who she had copied, to whom she had sacrificed all she was as a person, making herself into a mere, tarnished reflection of her brilliance. But the girl, like a star, was out of her reach, and soon her image blurred, robbing from her all that she found beautiful and Océane’s open eyes ceased to see the world, her ears oblivious to the screams of her desperate parents, the gasps and tears of onlookers, and the distant shriek of sirens.
     Océane shuddered in memory of the event.  It felt like some bad dream. Weeks later when she had been released from the hospital, her sight began to return, but the whole world looked tarnished. She would have preferred to have the last thing she saw be the angel that fell. In fear, she closed her mind, all dreams and nightmares vanished, in both reality and in sleep. She became a dull girl; the one who could never dance again, the girl who would pursue some meaningless career, who would vanish into the grey world so that when she died, her memory would never outshine the perfection of her broken angel.
     Later on, painting appealed to her, she would draw, still life, buildings, birds and plants, but never people. The worlds she made were always empty, devoid of life, save a haunting white figure concealed in the distant background or slightest reflection.
     A few years ago, the ghost of the girl she had stored in her mind had returned to her, reopened her heart to the dreams of others.
     Océane straightened her back, eyes no longer locked on the once bloodied side-walk, but looking ahead. 'Thank you, Claire, for this gift.  Tonight, I am going to tear down a maker of nightmares and give peace to a child, like you did for me.'  She wiped tears from her eyes before they fell. The heaviness in her heart vanished. The selfish vengeance had been replaced. She was no longer moving on to this righteous act out of anger or hatred, but out of duty and with a willing heart.
     She sighed.  'I am ready.'
~~~~~~~~~~
    Aleksei resisted the grievous temptation to tap his foot while the van idled, the passengers staring at the police blockade a hundred metres in front of them.  He felt some comfort that he was not the only person uneasy with the tense atmosphere. Anya, The Messenger, Evan, and even the as of yet nameless driver were all acting antsy. Whatever The Czech was supposed to do, he needed to do it fast, because they were all about to explode from the pressure if SICA did not get them first. In addition, Aleksei needed a chance to contact Mashka.
     He had been feeling uneasy ever since their hasty decision to leave her behind.  It was true that with her enhanced senses she could easily keep herself several steps ahead of anyone who might catch on to her, but that same power was slowly eating away at her.  Last night in Jack’s house, before they went to bed, Mashka confided with him about her power and how she could feel a consciousness that was not her own, clawing and whispering at her from within as it slowly gnawed on her self-control. Every time she used her powers, she found that she could pull herself back a fraction less than the time before.
     Hearing about such a strange experience, Aleksei decided to tell her about Nida, the Repha that resided within his inverse. He told her how he had to reconcile himself with that fragment of his soul in order to regain full control of his power. But unlike Aleksei, Mashka did not have a rational being within or a tranquil palace in the wooded mists. Instead she had a whirlwind of bestial destruction within a void.
     He gave the back of Evan’s head a look that he hoped would somehow convey his worry. He had not yet shared Mashka's secret with him, but he determined to have Mashka tell Evan later.
     Silently the seat and floor of the van in front and to the left of Aleksei turned into pools of scurrying blackness out of which emerged The Czech. Aleksei had never wanted to see this ability up close again, but at this proximity he could clearly see the strange effects. As the Czech pulled himself out of the void, the blackness seemed to flow off of him like a slime before vanishing into oblivion within a fraction of a second.
     Anya turned around.  “It took you long enough.”
     The Czech simply shrugged as he pulled his last arm out of the now tiny void through the seat.  Before his hand completely emerged, the blackness expanded once more as the blond Vladimir was pulled out by his coat.
     Once all the way in, Vlad flexed his neck a few times to loosen up, clearly displeased with his transportation he flopped down in a seat beside Aleksei, who was too shell-shocked to react with more than just a blank stare.
     Evan took a surprised double-take at Vladimir, who was the perfect copy of his brother. The only reason he could tell which was which was Aleksei’s dyed brown hair and different demeanour. Vladimir ignored his brother, seeming to not recognise him. Aleksei had to bear down on himself to avoid hyperventilating. His brother was right next to him, and far too many emotions were flowing through him at once.
    “So, big guy,” Anya began, address her Czech partner “We have a problem. That blockade up there has us trapped, what do you suggest?”
     “Just drive through them, I’ll take care of it.”
     “You do realise doing that is going to be hard to cover up?”
     “That’s the advantage of going against SICA.” The Czech reminded her. “Cover-up is on their dime.”
     Anya shrugged and turned to the driver. “Floor it, Dmitry.”  Inertia threw everyone but Anya back in their seats. Just before they reached the row of police vehicles, The Czech stood and braced himself against the van’s ceiling and floor.  Just as the nose of the vehicle touched the barrier, a black splat appeared upon the area that the van passed through.
     “Woohoo!” Anya cheered as they phased through the vehicles.  “Keep going Dem, we just got started!”
     Dem laughed nervously and kept his foot on the pedal.  Within moments they had come to the end of street and the only thing in front of them was a row of Gregorian residencies.
Unable to control himself, Aleksei let out a frightened yelp just before the van passed through the building, surrounding them in darkness.
     “Ok, Dem,” Anya began as she looked at her hand-held GPS display.  “Turn left once we pass through the next row of buildings, we should be in an alley.  Tech-devision scrambled the video feeds in that area, so SICA will not see where we go from there.”
     “Da, Miss Aho.”
     “Oh come now, call me Anya.” she muttered sultrily in the driver's ear.
    “Uh… sure… A-Anya.” Dem blushed nervously. “Here we go again.” he warned just moments before they phased into another residence.
     I think I’m going to be sick. Aleksei moaned inwardly as his stomach flipped over and tried not to get thrown into Vlad’s lap.
     Finally they found themselves in a wide alley and the driver slowed down, much to everyone’s relief, save Anya who seemed entirely unscathed by the experience. The Czech exhaled and sat down between the two boys, causing Aleksei to lean as far against the window as he could. Being on the same team was weird enough; he did not want to be hip to hip with that creep as well.
     A loud clanking noise caught everyone’s attention as a fire escape stairway lowered in front of them, off of which a woman leapt and signed for them to halt.
     “Stop!” Evan and Aleksei shouted in unison.
     The van parked beside where the woman stood as she put on her round lens sunglasses.  
     Evan hurriedly slid open the door. “Welcome aboard Mashka.”
     He was met by a rather peeved expression on the young woman’s face.  Her brown hair was a windblown mess barely contained below her large grey/blue scarf.
     Silently she stepped aboard and Evan made sure to scoot over to make room.
     “Oh, long time since we last met.” Anya noted casually.
    Mashka angled her face so she could glare at Anya with her golden cat-eyes. Anya provided her own haughty stare in exchange.
     After a few awkward seconds, Anya spoke again, “Well, get in, we don’t have all day.”
     Wordlessly Mashka boarded and sat next to Evan. She glanced back at Aleksei and gave a half-smile, and avoided eye contact with The Czech and Vlad.
     “So, how did you find us?” Evan inquired after they began moving again.
     “We will discuss that later and in detail.” Mashka replied testily.
   Evan half-chuckled knowing he would be on the receiving end of one of Mashka’s rare but unpleasant lectures, but she was safe.

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